


Unguarded

by becausenobreeches (crucibulis)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5370659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crucibulis/pseuds/becausenobreeches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr drabble. Bull scares Dorian within an inch of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unguarded

**Author's Note:**

> Just something silly I cooked up because I wanted to see Dorian doing something like that “Aw, you guys made me ink” from Finding Nemo. But with his simulacrum.

_“Well,”_ Dorian scoffed, standing up straighter as he brushed something off his robes only he could see. He wasn’t quite making eye contact with the Iron Bull, still putting himself back together, fighting against some emotion that might have been embarrassment or rage. “I _hope_ you’re pleased with yourself,” he said, his voice a shaken imitation of his normal haughtiness. He finally locked eyes with Bull and cocked his head to the side.

“Um…” Bull responded, not nearly as pleased as he had expected to be. It had seemed like a decent enough plan. Sneak up on Dorian when he was distracted thinking all those cute, pensive, brilliant magey thoughts, grab him around the waist, hoist him over his shoulder and take him to their tent. Somewhere along the way, though, it had gone horribly wrong.

Form silhouetted against the campfire behind him, Dorian gestured wildly to his green, ghost-like twin. “You scared me within an inch of my life! Literally!”

Bull frowned, watching as the transparent Dorian maintained a guarded stance in front of him, protecting Bull from some even-less-visible threat. “What _is_ that thing?” he asked warily.

“It is a simulacrum,” Dorian answered, equal parts pride and exasperation. “A spirit that is called to defend my allies when I am near death.” Dorian crossed his arms, taking a stern stance that made Bull forget for a moment that Dorian was shorter than him. _“Apparently_ he thought his presence was required.”

Bull tilted his head, trying to understand. “Because I _scared you?”_

Dorian was evidently not finished with his lecture. “Do you realize how much work goes into creating one of these?” he scolded. “How much thaumaturgical concentration? They can only be used once, you know. Now I’ll have to stay up late tonight making another one,” he said with a sharp hunch of his shoulders.

Bull looked back and forth between Dorian and his spirit self. It did look an awful lot like him. Even moved like Dorian, too: all bold and vicious and _incredibly hot–_

"Whatever it is that you’re thinking of, _no,”_ Dorian growled, interrupting Bull’s thoughts. “No, _absolutely_ not.”

Bull just shrugged, about to assert that he couldn’t be blamed and then throw in a charming smirk for good measure, when Dorian’s expression shifted slightly. “Maybe,” Dorian said, softer than before, so only Bull could hear. “Not here. Not _anywhere_ Solas is within earshot,” he amended. Bull responded with a low, amused chuckle, but cut it off when he received a glare that reminded him he was still in trouble.

He composed himself and looked back at the simulacrum, who was still vigilantly standing at his side, unphased by his creator’s ire.

Then something occurred to Bull.  "So… if I’m the one who scared you, why is he defending me?“

"Hmm?” Dorian replied, thin-lipped, clearly doing that thing he did where he pretended not to understand the question, because the answer was inconvenient.

“Shouldn’t he be defending the others _against_ me?” Bull clarified, leaning towards Dorian a little to press him for the truth.

“Yes. Well…” Dorian coughed, hesitating over his answer until Bull raised an eyebrow. “I _may_ have modified the spell slightly in order to attune the spiritual fragments to a particular entity. It allows the spell to independently direct its energy towards –”

Dorian slumped a little, sighed, and started over. “I made it to protect _you,”_ he admitted quietly. “Should something happen to me.”

The simulacrum chose that moment to fizzle from existence, leaving Bull unguarded from the onslaught of gratitude and affection that hit him like a mace to the chest. He gaped at Dorian, who just cut his dark eyes to the side and lifted one shoulder, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

 _“Kadan,”_ Bull whispered, overwhelmed by the gesture and the dark implication behind it. “So I wasn’t gonna find out you’d done this, until you had one foot in the grave?” he inquired, trying not to sound worried or hurt.

“I didn’t _intend_ for you to find out at _all,”_ Dorian pointed out, rolling his eyes.

Bull snorted, and then doubled down on his original intentions, bending down to grab Dorian around the middle, ignoring his flailing and protests as he proudly carried him to bed. 


End file.
